


Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here

by IneffableBastard



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale has a crush on Crowley, Aziraphale works in HR, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Crowley definitely has a kink for Aziraphale eating, Crowley has a crush on Aziraphale, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley works in IT, Good Omens Office AU, Good Omens Secret Santa 2020, HR is Heaven, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), IT department is Hell, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Matching christmas jumpers, Office AU, Office Party, Shakespeare quotes used liberally, Swearing, Tumblr Secret Santa, good omens human au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableBastard/pseuds/IneffableBastard
Summary: A Good Omens Office AU written for @animeangelriku over on Tumblr as part of the 2020 Good Omens Secret Santa- I got a bit carried away and I think she'll only be interested in the actual Christmas party scenes, so I'm going to post the rest here for everyone to enjoy!Premise- Aziraphale and Crowley both work at E.A.R.T.H Inc, Aziraphale in the Human Resources Department, and Crowley in IT. After fancying Aziraphale for almost a year Crowley finally makes a move at the office Christmas party. Just two disaster boiis in love, Tracy and Anathema playing matchmaker, and the demons being chill colleagues that like a bit of banter!Also the title is a Shakespeare quote because they have a bit of a Shakespeare quote-off xTrigger warnings for swearing!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 46
Collections: Good Omens Secret Santa 2020





	1. Christmas Party Pt 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@animeangelriku](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40animeangelriku).



> This first chapter is a bit of a teaser, I'll post the next one tomorrow!

“C’mon Aziraphale! This way!” The lanky redhead from IT with the veritable jungle of greenery on his desk grabbed him by the collar of his Christmas jumper and dragged him through a door concealed by tinsel. Aziraphale had no time to think as the man he had been secretly crushing on for almost a year pulled him through the darkened hallways of their workplace. “Shit! Someone’s coming, in here!” Crowley gasped, pushing the shorter man through a door, then pressing against him as he shut the door behind himself. Aziraphale felt rather than saw the shelves digging into his back as he scrabbled to make some space between the two of them. “What is going o-mphh!” Crowley silenced him with a finger over his lips, as the sound of high heels clicked past. “Yes, yes, I don’t care if it’s the holidays, make them do it!” came a prissy voice accompanying the sound of the heels.  
“Michael” Crowley mouthed. Aziraphale took a moment to take in the taller man in front of him, whose chest was heaving from the exertion and touching his own with every exhale. They were closer than Aziraphale was sure they had ever been, so close he could count the freckles he had never noticed scattered across the other man’s nose, even in the dim light of the fire escape sign. Aziraphale could feel the blood pounding through his body and smell the slight tinge of alcohol on Crowley’s breath, mixing with the heady scent of the other mans’ cologne and that faint smell of fresh, damp earth he had noticed the first time they met.


	2. Computer Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't sleep, so here is chapter 2. The boys meet for the first time! This is from Aziraphale's POV.  
> Insomnia is a real bitch, my dudes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate how AO3 messes up my formatting!!!!!!!!!

“Sup?” Came a slightly husky voice, with a hint of an accent beneath the Estuary drawl. Aziraphale looked up from his computer, which was decidedly not working. His eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect o as he took in the man currently leaning against the wall of his booth. The sinfully tight black jeans, the black leather belt with… was that a snake’s head buckle? A dark burgundy shirt was tucked into it, perfectly tailored to show off the slim torso along with the black waistcoat that hung open. Aziraphale’s eyes travelled up further, to the silver chain dangling down, then to the glimpse of dark hair peeking out from the two undone buttons. Aziraphale felt his cheeks flush as he took in the sharp angles of the other mans’ face and the red, artfully mussed waves of hair pushed back from his face with a spiral headband. It was a shame his eyes were covered by dark glasses though, he found himself thinking. An eyebrow raised above the dark glasses, and the man cleared his throat. “You Aziraphale? I uh…heard you’re having computer trouble?”  
Aziraphale flushed a darker shade of red. “Oh, um, yes, quite. It seems to have…what’s the word? Crushed? On me?” He stumbled through his words, flustered by the very attractive man still looming over him, who chuckled at the word “crushed”.  
“I think y’mean crashed, can you tell me anything else?”  
“Oh, well, um…I was in the middle of using the word processor and spreadsheets when it displayed a rather ominous message, then it shut down…I don’t recall doing anything out of the ordinary, which I mentioned on the phone to that friendly young chap down in IT.” The man smirked and leaned over him.   
“Yeah Eric said you were having trouble and sent me up, he’s only an intern. Been showing him the ropes, now let me get a better look. D’you remember what the _ominous message_ that popped up said?” There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he repeated Aziraphales’ words back to him.   
Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m afraid it popped up so suddenly I didn’t have a chance to really take in what it was saying before the whole thing shut down. Do let me get you a chair, Mr…?”

“Anthony J Crowley, but just call me Crowley, all my mates do, and I don’t mind being on m’knees” he winked, actually _winked_ , as he said it, although how he could possibly kneel in such tight trousers was beyond Aziraphale. He flushed again, wondering if this vision of a man could possibly be flirting with him. _Surely not,_ Aziraphale thought, _he’s just being friendly. Do get a grip, old chap._ “No no, I insist, I was going to get up for a cup of tea anyway, do take my seat! Can I get you a tea, or coffee?” He hadn’t actually been planning to, but he certainly needed a moment to collect himself and a cup of tea to settle his nerves sounded heavenly at that moment. “Sure, if it’s no trouble? Black coffee, two sugars” Crowley replied, settling into Aziraphales’ just-vacated seat. “I promise not to adjust the seat settings while you’re gone, I hate when people do that!” Crowley shot him a grin, before turning to get to work on the computer in front of him. Aziraphale just nodded, giving him a small smile in return before turning to scurry away to the office kitchenette.

When he returned he found Crowley on the floor, fiddling with the hard drive. Aziraphale coughed a little to get the other man’s attention. Crowley looked up, the frown on his face easing as he took in the beige clad man holding out a tall black mug full of coffee. “Wings?” he asked, amused, as he took in the winged handles of the mug, and the matching white mug of tea cradled in Aziraphales’ other hand. Aziraphale flushed. “They came as a set, and I thought they were…cute” he replied, looking away. Crowley sipped his coffee and sighed happily.   
“Oh you’re an angel, I needed this. Much better than the instant stuff we have down in Hell” he grinned, taking another sip.  
“Oh well, I don’t often partake in coffee myself, but I did purchase a tin Anathema recommended me as she is quite fond of it. Wait- what do you mean, Hell?”  
“Wow, you really are angel, buying the expensive stuff when you don’t even drink it y’self. We call downstairs Hell, ‘cos we have to deal with everyone else’s problems and get treated like demons by you lot up here- you should hear how Gabriel talks down to us, the pompous git” he laughed, a rich sound, before taking another long sip of coffee.   
“Now really, dear boy, you really shouldn’t say things like that up here,” he lowered his voice, and leaned down to the other mans’ ear, noticing for the first time the tiny, coiled serpent tattoo just below his ear, almost hidden by his hair. “Almost everyone on this floor are his spies, all desperate to get in his good books, you ought to be careful. I’d hate for you to be fired, as much as I’m inclined to agree with you” he whispered. Crowley threw back his head and laughed.   
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, angel, the IT department doesn’t answer to that American knob, Beelze answers to no man!” Aziraphale giggled, recalling the one time the infamous Beelze had come up from the basement- they were small, but full of fury and had managed to make even Gabriel cower with their scowl. “Oh hush! He could still find a way to make your life miserable, you terrible man!” He swatted Crowley’s arm playfully as he took his seat again.   
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Like I said, don’t worry about me, angel” Crowley grinned, as he fiddled with the wires attached to the hard drive. Aziraphale felt his face redden for the hundredth time since this man had swanned into the HR department, wondering if Crowley was calling him “angel” on purpose. He had called him pretty, too.

“Now, you really don’t want to quote Shakespeare around me, you won’t win, you know” Aziraphale said conversationally. Crowley looked up and flashed him another devilish grin. One of his canines caught on his lip like a little fang, and Aziraphale found himself charmed by it. “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows, or so they say,” he shrugged, “not that we’re sharing a bed, obviously, I just meant, y’know, IT and HR, and this company…work…being miserable…ngk” Crowley replied, the smooth, suave façade slipping as he stuttered and went red. He turned away, the tips of his ears still giving away his blush as he stood up, looking away from the blond man as he switched the computer back on and waited for it to boot up. “We know what we are, but know not what we may be,” Aziraphale mused, “you, of course, being in IT, and myself being in Human Resources. I know what you mean though dear, I’m sure we mightn’t have met in other circumstances.”  
“Whaddya mean?” Crowley said, turning sharply to look at him properly. “I’ve seen you in the staff cafeteria!” He seemed a little indignant, which was strange.  
“No, no, you mistake me, of course we may have seen each other here at work before,” _although I’m sure I would remember seeing someone as gorgeous as you, if I had seen you before_ he thought, “I merely mean that we most likely run in different circles outside of work. I, for one, spend most of my time outside of work reading in little coffee shops, or hunting for rare old books, whereas you probably spend your time doing much more interesting things, like clubbing, or whatever it is that young people these days do” He said quickly, holding his hands up, as if to placate the other man. Crowley snorted. “Nah, I’m not that young. Clubbing stopped being my scene a few years back. Actually, I like gardening. And fixing up old cars…” He said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

The computer finally finished rebooting, and Crowley turned back to run a diagnostic check, fingers flying across the keyboard. Aziraphale gulped, taking another sip of his tea to hide it as he admired the other mans’ hands. Was that a weird thing to notice and admire? They really were quite lovely, long fingered and dexterous, and moving across the keyboard with such confidence- nothing like Aziraphale’s own meticulous hunt-and-peck technique. “So, y’like Shakespeare? M’not a fan of the gloomy ones, much prefer the comedies, myself” Crowley said conversationally as he leant over Aziraphale to work, the scent of his smoky cologne and a hint of something almost earthy filling Aziraphales’ nostrils. “Oh, but the tragedies speak of the human experience! Love, loss, revenge-”  
Crowley groaned and leaned back in his seat dramatically, “Boooooring! There’s so much more to the human experience than that, angel, s’why I like the comedies, the characters are much more relatable! But to thine own self be true, I guess” the snaggle tooth peeked out again as he grinned and slurped his coffee. Aziraphale tutted and shook his head at the interruption and rude display but was secretly very charmed by it all.

They continued to talk Shakespeare as Crowley fixed his computer, and Aziraphale was very put out when Crowley leaned back in his chair, arms above his head as he stretched out- _and was that a sliver of pale skin revealed as his shirt rode up? Focus, old boy! –_ and declared that it was all fixed up and ready for Aziraphale to carry on with his _word processing and spreadsheets_ which he said with a smile. “Oh, thank you ever so much for your assistance, I really am quite terrible with these infernal machines! It was lovely to meet you, my dear” Aziraphale said, extending a hand. Crowley took it with a bewildered smile, and Aziraphale found himself wishing he could see the other man’s eyes properly. “S’not a problem, angel, it’s m’job. Thanks for the fancy coffee,” he paused, and pulled a black business card from a pocket in his waistcoat, “This is my email and mobile number, in case you have any more trouble, just drop me a line or whatever, yeah?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as Aziraphale took it carefully and examined it. It was a beautiful black matte card stock, with “Anthony J Crowley, IT” embossed in gold on one side and an email address and mobile number embossed in gold on the other. “Back to the basement I go, to my infernal lair” he chuckled, straightening up to his full height. _Gosh, he’s tall_ Aziraphale thought.   
“Quite, do give my thanks to Eric for his help,” he fiddled anxiously with the business card in his hand. “Perhaps we’ll see each other around?” he said, hopefully, looking up through his lashes at the other man. “Count on it, angel!” Crowley said with a wink, before turning and sauntering off. _Good Lord, how does he walk like that? Like his hips aren’t connected to the rest of him?_ Aziraphale had to bite his lip and force himself to turn away, but not before he caught Crowley give him a cheeky wave from the lift, which he nervously returned.


	3. Hell's In The Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's our favourite demon lads! I really enjoyed writing their banter, but fair warning, our demon boys like to swear so trigger warning for that! I was very inspired by the IT Crowd for this fic and the idea that the IT department are basement dwelling nerds who don't really like the other departments.  
> Creepy Crawley's got a crush!  
> Also, I love Eric so much, he's how we all start out at work before it crushes our souls and dreams

Crowley strode across the office, flinging himself down into his massive leather desk chair dramatically with a sigh. “Everything alright there boss?” Eric chirped from his desk by the door, too full of energy for the basement. He was young, and only a few months into his internship with the company, his enthusiasm often too much for Crowley to handle before he had his daily dose of caffeine. Crowley only sighed again in reply, lifting his designer sunglasses to rub at his eyes. “Another idiot upstairs not realise that their pc has to be plugged in for it to work?” Asked Ligur as he came out of the kitchenette across the room, extra large coffee in hand. Crowley shook his head. “Did that stuck up cow Michael need you to remove that stick from her arse?” asked the pale, grubby, blond man from the desk opposite Crowley. “Nah Hastur, she’s probably got interns for that shit” snickered Ligur, now seated at his own desk next to Hasturs. Hastur and Ligur were polar opposites to look at- Ligur in his crisp, smart black suit, pressed white shirt, with hair shorn short and dark skin; and Hastur in his grubby shirt that was probably white once, undone tie, gray stained trousers, dirty blond hair that looked as if it had never seen a comb in his life, and skin so pale it looked like he had never seen the sun- but they were thick as thieves.

“So how was mister Aziraphale, boss?” Eric pressed, dropping a coffee in his usual Queen mug in front of Crowley. Crowley nodded in thanks and sighed again. “He sounded really posh on the phone, what’s he like?”  
“A literal angel” Crowley replied, sipping his coffee.  
“Ooooh, has creepy Crawley got a crush?” Hastur cooed.  
“Get fucked, Hastur.”  
“Oooh Touch-y! Thought all the upstairs lot were a bunch of wankers?”  
“Nah, not him, I called Gabriel a knob and he actually _giggled_ and warned me that Gabriel has spies everywhere. Told him even Gabriel is scared of Beelze,” Crowley swigged from his coffee.  
They all laughed. No one messed with their tiny boss, not even the head of the company. “So, what’s he like then?” Eric nudged Crowley and batted those ludicrously long eyelashes at him for good measure. “Oh quit it with those bloody puppy eyes, you nosy devil, and put those lashes away while you’re at it, enough to make a drag queen jealous!” Crowley groused, shooing Eric away. “If you must know he was very polite at first, but once we got talking it turned out he wasn’t as stuffy as I thought. We talked about Shakespeare,” he said, a dreamy look crossing his face.  
“Shakespeare? Bloody nerd,” Ligur scoffed.


	4. Witch Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracy and Anathema cotton on to Crowley's crush in 0.001 seconds lmao

Crowley thought back to the first time he had seen Aziraphale in the canteen. He had been sitting with Anathema- a witchy girl who worked in marketing- and Madame Tracy, the boisterous older receptionist who had been with the company from the beginning and wore more makeup now than she had when she started. He had first noticed the man in the queue, his old-fashioned velvet waistcoat, pressed beige trousers, sky blue shirt, and tartan bowtie not exactly standard E.A.R.T.H Inc employee garb. There wasn’t a uniform, but as with most offices most employees wore smart clothes that all tended to look the same. The clothes and cloud-like curls of bright blond hair were enough to make the other man stand out, but the fact that he was clearly friends with some of the most interesting people in the company was also intriguing. Then he saw the man bite into some sort of pastry, and the obscene moan that came from him as he did made Crowley’s knees buckle as he walked past to a free table. He spent the entirety of his lunch break trying to ignore the noises this strange beige-clad man made over his food and failing miserably. He couldn’t help but sneak peeks of him out of the corner of his sunglasses- that sunshine smile, those eyes ( _were they blue? Green? Hazel??),_ the charming nose that turned up at the end, those round cheeks. He was positively _angelic._

He hadn’t been able to get the man out of his head for weeks. He decided to do some recon, and one lunch break he finally got up the courage to strike up a conversation with Tracy and Anathema. He already considered both of them friends (Anathema had struck up a conversation about gardening with him after visiting the IT department one day and seeing the veritable garden of Eden that took up most of Crowley’s desk, and Madame Tracy was a massive flirt who would chat up anyone who came by the reception) so he reasoned it shouldn’t be so difficult to find out about their friend. He sidled up to their table with a cheeky wave. “Anthony luv, out of the basement, I see? Sit, sit!” Tracy gestured widely, her many bangles clinking loudly and catching light, nearly blinding him. He draped himself into the empty chair opposite the two of them. They were a study in contrasts; Tracy’s bright orange hair, painted face, and brightly coloured clothes making her look like nature’s gaudiest butterfly next to Anathema, her long dark hair half up and half cascading down her shoulders and blending with the dark lacy dress she was wearing- looking every inch the Victorian schoolteacher- a dark moth next to Tracy. “Ladies” Crowley said, inclining his head in greeting.

They traded small talk for a while, Crowley desperately trying to work up the courage to ask about their friend in beige. “So, uh…who’s that bloke in the beige I’ve seen y’both with up here?” He finally managed to say, trying to play it casual. Tracy and Anathema shared a knowing look that made Crowley very nervous. His leg had started jigging beneath the table, but he tried to play it as cool as possible. “Oh, Aziraphale? He works up in HR, under that awful Gabriel fella. He’s such a sweet thing, isn’t he?” Tracy clucked. Crowley pulled at his collar.  
“Not actually met him, just seen the three of you at lunch a few times, wondered who he was, y’know me, too curious for my own good an’ all that” he rushed out, running a hand through his hair hoping it looked cool, rather than like the anxious gesture it was. Anathema smiled at him knowingly, and he wondered how obvious he was being. “He likes Shakespeare, you know,” she said, raising her coffee to her lips. “Oh, uh…good to know?” He stuttered, not sure what to do with that piece of information. “Oh yes, he loves a bit of old Will, our Aziraphale. And he’s ever so handsome in his waistcoat and pocket watch, isn’t he?” Tracy said, with a wink. Crowley flushed almost as red as his hair. “Erm, I mean sure, if you go in for the whole old-timey librarian look, I guess…”   
“Of course he’s gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, otherwise I would have given him a go long ago!” Tracy laughed. Crowley choked, almost spitting his coffee all over the both of them. Anathema, who was used to Tracy’s antics by now, just shook her head and sipped her coffee. “You’re bisexual yourself, aren’t you, Anthony? Although I always figured you went more in for the flashy types” Tracy continued, like she hadn’t caused a man to nearly choke. _Am I really being that transparent??_ Crowley thought desperately. “Nnnyeah, don’t really have a type though” he mumbled in reply, wondering when he could make an escape from all the knowing looks and not-so-subtle hints. “I can introduce you?” Anathema offered.  
“Ngk, no, that’s fine, I was just curious, s’all. Gonna go get a refill,” he shook his empty travel cup, “enjoy your lunch ladies, nice to catch up n’all that” he managed to get out, before fleeing.


	5. Have You Tried Turning it Off and On Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know the timeline jumps around a bit but I hope it all makes sense! If you need clarification let me know! Also the POV switches between Aziraphale and Crowley, as you've probably guessed, hopefully it's obvious enough which chapter is whose perspective. Really referencing the IT Crowd here, it was one of my comfort shows when I was a teenager (it's a shame some of it hasn't exactly aged well, and one of the creators is a terf).

So, he knew his new crush’s name, and that he worked in HR. And that he liked Shakespeare, and men. Not really much to go on, and nothing that gave him an excuse to speak to the man. He could bump into him in the lunch queue, maybe? Or greet Tracy and Anathema in the cafeteria whilst they were with him and wait for them to introduce him- but no, they had obviously clocked his attraction and they could jeopardise the whole thing, make him look like some creepy stalker. He would just have to wait for his moment.

His moment came a few weeks later. He was idly spraying his plants, quietly hissing at them to do better under his breath when the phone at Eric’s desk rang. “Hello, Eric here! This is the IT department, how can I help?” Eric was far to chipper on the phone, in Crowley’s opinion. Before he came along they had a pre-recorded message that said something along the lines of “Have you tried turning it off and on again”, and then took a message from whichever hopeless sap had dared to call them. But now they had Eric, who answered the phone with such a sickly-sweet manner that it made Crowley want to vomit on the best of days. “Yes, what seems to be the problem, Mr…” he paused for the person on the other end of the line’s name, “Aziraphale?” Crowley’s head shot up. It was him! He got up from his desk and sauntered over to Eric. “Yes, sir, I can get someone to come up and help you out, HR, did you say? 7th floor?”  
“I’ll go,” Crowley said, tapping Eric on the shoulder. Eric looked up through his not-actually-false eyelashes and broke into a grin.  
“Someone is coming up to help you right away, sir! Have a nice day!” Eric said, hanging up. “Mr. Aziraphale Fell in HR, on the 7th floor needs assistance, he says his computer has completely crashed, Mr. Crowley!”   
“We’ve been over this, Eric, it’s just Crowley. Y’don’t need to call us all “Mr.” I’ll head up there now.”   
Ligur looked up from his computer, “Don’t go rushing up there, we don’t want them to think we’re at their beck and call! Don’t want ‘em getting ideas, you rush up for one of ‘em and they’ll all expect it, like we ain’t got any other work to do” he said with a scowl. Crowley nodded and waved him off.   
“Yeah, yeah, Ligur. I’ll stop by the canteen on my way up, and make the lift stop at every floor” he called out behind him as he strolled out of the office. It was time to officially meet his crush.


	6. Nokias and Sushi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets ganged up on, Aziraphale reveals his very old mobile (because let's be honest, if he did have a mobile it would be a dinosaur of a phone) and the boys chat it up!  
> I just really love writing all the banter between the characters and I won't apologise lmao.  
> also, Aziraphale would like snake, wouldn't he?...

The next time Crowley bothered to go up to the cafeteria (definitely not hoping to bump into Aziraphale) he had just left the queue with his toastie and coffee when he heard his name being called out, a few tables away. “Crowley, over here!” There was no mistaking that perfect Oxbridge accent, and Crowley felt like his heart was about to beat clear out of his chest as he saw Aziraphale waving him over to the table where he was sat with Tracy and Anathema. He tried to saunter over with his usual unaffected air, waving a long arm in greeting. “Would you like to sit with us, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley nodded, and draped himself into the nearest free chair, sprawling out. “Have you met Madame Tracy and Anathema before?” Aziraphale asked politely, his ocean-blue eyes settling on Crowley. “Ngk…yeah we’re acquainted, you alright ladies?”  
“Oh yes, Aziraphale here told us all about you fixing his computer just last week, and how you really hit it off talking about Shakespeare!” Tracy said, her eyes twinkling. Anathema winked at him through her thick, horn-rimmed glasses. “Oh, uh yeah. How’s the computer? Giving you any more trouble?” He turned to address Aziraphale, cheeks going a bit pink.

“not so far, my dear, but I’ll be sure to let you know if it decides to act up again!” The man wiggled, actually _wiggled_ in his seat as he opened the container in front of him to reveal a perfect box of sushi, complete with tiny pots of wasabi, pickled ginger, and soy sauce. He pulled the wooden chopsticks from their paper packet and snapped them in half, holding them in an expert grip. “I picked these up on my way in today and I must confess I’ve been thinking about them all day! I’m ever so glad we have a fridge in the office!” He wiggled happily again.  
“Y’know there’s apps you can get on your phone to order food? They make it fresh n’ deliver it right to reception for you, angel” Crowley said, holding out his phone to show Aziraphale.  
“Angel?” Said Anathema with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Crowley shot her a warning glare, and her smirk just widened. Tracy tittered, but Crowley soldiered on, swiping through a popular food delivery app on his phone to show Aziraphale. “Look, you can search the name of a particular restaurant if you want, or you can search by cuisine, or you can just browse what’s in the area” Crowley continued, trying and failing not to blush as Aziraphale leant in and oo’ed and ahh’ed. “Well that’s simply wonderful, my dear, but I’m afraid my mobile cellular device is too old for one of your “apps”” _Satan Below, did he just use air quotes??_ Thought Crowley as Aziraphale pulled what looked like a plastic brick from his waistcoat pocket, handing it to Crowley. “Is this…a Nokia???? A Nokia 3310???” Crowley gaped comically. “Mobile Cellular Device?” he mouthed at Anathema, who just shook her head in amusement and shrugged.  
“Yes! Anathema taught me to text, and there’s a delightful game on it called Snake! I’m not very good at it though…” Aziraphale mused.  
“Oh, it took us months to bully him into getting a mobile!” Tracy laughed.  
“I tried to give him my old iPhone!” Anathema chipped in. Crowley shook his head in disbelief.  
“Angel, we have _got_ to bring you into the 21st century!” Crowley groaned dramatically, throwing his arm over his head as he leaned back in his chair. Aziraphale straightened in his seat and tugged his waistcoat down primly. “I happen to like where I am perfectly fine!” He harrumphed, pouting.

Crowley couldn’t handle the cuteness overload of the angelic man in front of him, pouting. Properly _pouting._ He grimaced. _Satan I want to sink my teeth into that bottom lip, looking that hot and cute at the same time should be illegal!_ Crowley thought, exasperated. “M’not saying you need to _change_ Aziraphale, but a new phone, y’know, one from this actual decade, would make your life easier!” Crowley said, flinging his arms into the air to emphasise his point. “As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Crowley on this one, buddy” Anathema agreed, patting Aziraphale’s arm gently. Crowley wiggled his head sarcastically. “Aziraphale, luv, we aren’t telling you to change! We love your sense of style, very dapper, it is. But if you get a proper mobile I can get you all set up on that Grindr I told you about!” She winked theatrically, reaching over to nudge Aziraphale. He flushed pink. “Oooh, Crowley dearie, are _you_ on Grindr?” She asked, turning to look at Crowley with a perfectly pencilled eyebrow raised. Crowley tensed in his seat and flushed a darker shade of red than his hair. “Nnnyeah, I might be” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  
“You have got to get Tracy to help you pimp your profile Crowley, she really knows her stuff!” Anathema laughed.  
“I um, I thought Grindr was only for gay men?” Aziraphale asked, eyebrows raising in what Crowley hoped was a half hopeful, half confused way.  
“Not jussst gay men, bisexual and pansexual men, too” Crowley cursed his lisp internally, stress always made it slip out, “M’bi, myself.” Aziraphale’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Oh, I uh, I’m terribly sorry to assume, I haven’t actually used it before, you see” Aziraphale stuttered, shaking his head and looking sheepish.“S’fine, angel. Don’t worry about it” Crowley mumbled, looking away with his hand still in his hair.  
“Oh, bother, would you look at the time! Anathema, you still haven’t showed me that new tarot deck of yours! I need a new deck, luv, why don’t we pop upstairs and take a look” Tracy said in strange tone of voice, raising her eyebrows at Anathema. Her eyes widened.  
“Yes, you’ll love the artwork,” Anathema replied catching on to Tracy’s meaning.  
“We’ll see you both soon, I’m sure you have _plenty_ to talk about boys” Tracy leant over and patted both their arms, one after the other “Ciao!” She said in her very-much-not Italian accent and an exaggerated wink as she swept herself up in a flurry of bangles and brightly coloured silk. “Catch you later,” Anathema waved over her shoulder, already up and moving after Tracy with a swirl of lace and velvet in such a deep shade of green it could almost be mistaken for black.

“So, uh. How’s things?” Crowley said awkwardly, biting into his toastie.  
“Oh, not too bad, although some of the higher ups are making my work more difficult with budget cuts and what-not. I’ve been trying to set up a queer network, which I was just telling Tracy and Anathema about, and I’ve been working on a new counselling initiative for staff! Gabriel insists that no one that works here needs mental health support- which is frankly ludicrous- and I think they are hoping I will drop the LGBTQ network idea if they keep piling more useless work onto me. It’s really quite disheartening, to be honest with you dear boy. It feels as if every time I try to do work that genuinely helps people management do everything in their power to stop me” he sighed. “Oh but here I am wittering on about myself when you don’t want to hear about all that, how have you been, dear boy?”

Crowley shook his head, “nuh uh uh angel, you don’t get to tell me what I do ‘n don’t wanna hear about!” He waved a long finger adorned with black nail polish at the other man. “M’fine, but y’know if you want to start an LGBTQ network here y’should really come down to IT sometime- we’re all queer in the basement! Liggy and Hastur have been an item for donkeys’ years, Beelze has been going by they/them since they joined the company, they’d be in for sure! If enough of us sign up for it there’s no way they can say no!” His voice grew in volume as his excitement grew, his arms moving wildly as he spoke. “Crowley, dear, I’m pleased you feel so strongly but perhaps we should discuss this somewhere we can be certain Gabriel’s spies can’t hear us?” Aziraphale said with a smile, but he glanced around nervously, clearly worried. “Shit, sorry angel” Crowley ran his fingers through his hair again. “Y’should come down to the basement sometime, chat with the whole crew about it, then. You said you already talked to Ana about it and there’s her boyfriend Newt, from Accounting, too- he’s one of us” he continued, lowering his voice and leaning toward Aziraphale. “Oh yes, Newt is a lovely chap, he and Anathema are well suited, surprisingly!” Aziraphale seemed to settle once more, although he still glanced around furtively. “Haha, yeah, proper odd couple but they make it work” Crowley laughed, biting into his now cold toastie. He gulped and thanked Someone he was still wearing his sunglasses as he noticed Aziraphale pick up his chopsticks again. _Maybe he only makes those noises when he eats pastries?_ He thought desperately as he watched the other man delicately pick up a cucumber hosamaki, methodically dip it into the soy sauce then the wasabi, before bringing it to his plush, pink lips.

Aziraphale let out a sigh, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closed those perfect lips around the sushi. The moan that escaped him was enough to make Crowley blush as it made him think about the kinds of noises the man might make in other, more compromising situations. He squirmed in his seat. He wasn’t going to survive this lunch, was he?


	7. Into The Bowels of Hell pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just really love writing banter, okay?  
> Aziraphale ventures down to Hell (aka the basement, aka the IT Department's lair) to see Crowley, and gets more than he bargained for!  
> I really love writing Hastur and Ligur as an odd gay London couple, and I definitely stole the "officiant/efficient" line from Brooklyn 99, where Captain Holt tells everyone about when he and Kevin tied the knot (I love Kevin and Holt's relationship so much!!) Also Eric is my son, and if anything happened to him I would kill all of you then myself (yes, I'm quoting Rosa from Brooklyn 99 too- it's my other comfort show). I originally wasn't planning on having any other characters involved beyond mentioning their names, but I've really enjoyed fleshing out these versions of the characters so far! I might make the infamous Beezle make an appearance, because I love my tiny non-binary icon, and Gabriel will also probably make an appearance, if only to show how terrible he is (I hate Gabriel and you can't change my mind lmao).  
> One last note- if you haven't googled the posters in Hell from Good Omens and you need a laugh you definitely should, they're all comedy gold!

A few days later Aziraphale found himself making the journey down to the basement. He entered the lift nervously, checking that none of his HR colleagues were watching. Just in case he pressed the button for the floor that the cafeteria was on- he’d much rather they assume he was going for another cake (he’d had _comments_ on his weight before from various colleagues) than suspect his true destination. As the lift doors slid shut he sighed in relief, leaning against the cool mirrored wall a little before pressing the button for the basement. Someone had helpfully scribbled the word “HELL” in sharpie next to it and whilst graffiti wasn’t usually tolerated in the building for some reason this had been left intact.

His heart still pounding, he stepped out of the lift. Or rather, squeezed, as the door wouldn’t open the whole way. He emerged into a corridor that seemed nothing like anywhere else he had ever seen in the building- it was dark for one thing, a few lights flickering on and off rather ominously with the rest apparently just broken, and there seemed to be the smell of damp rising to meet his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, skirting past a bucket in the middle of the floor that seemed to be catching a steady drip from the ceiling. This was nothing like the gleaming white and cream offices with highly polished glass and chrome and fake green plants he had grown used to upstairs. The paint seemed to be peeling from the walls, exposing dirty brickwork, and there were some highly _unusual_ posters pasted up. “Please do not lick the walls” he read out, baffled. “The devil finds work for idle hands to do- SO LOOK BUSY… well I say” he mumbled to himself as he continued to make his way cautiously through the dank corridor. “To avoid injury don’t tell me how to do my bloody job…” he grimaced, although he could definitely relate to that one, at least. “CHEER UP, the worst is yet to come… well I should hope not, how do they get any work done if their office is anything like this?” he mused to himself. He passed a door for a toilet which had the little man icon blacked out with marker pen and the words “PISS HOUSE” scribbled beneath it. “Charming” he said with a little frown. He stepped around an almost full tin bucket that was catching yet another drip from somewhere above, approaching the nondescript grey door at the end of the corridor. A scuffed and dirty golden plaque on the door had “IT Department” engraved onto it, and beneath in thick black brushstrokes was a skull and crossbones with “WELCOME TO HELL” painted beneath that.

He rapped on the door politely, not wanting to barge into someone else’s department willy-nilly. “COME IN!!” Someone with a thick London accent bellowed. He sighed and wondered what on earth he had gotten himself into as he gently pushed the door open. The warm light washed over him, although it still took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the flickering gloom of the corridor. It was nothing like the harsh white lights of upstairs though, which he found himself grateful for- hours on end in those strip lights often left him with terrible headaches. The room came into focus and it was more welcoming than he ever would have thought, given what he had seen since stepping out of the lift. There were pop culture posters all over the walls, a desk in one corner positively covered with all kinds of greenery immediately catching his eye. “Hi, can I help you?!” came a particularly chirpy, and somewhat familiar voice from the desk nearest to the door. Aziraphale turned to see a young man with an afro styled into two shapes that resembled bunny ears and a black shirt with lace spilling from the collar. Behind his desk was a massive Trans Pride flag, and there was a little he/him pronoun pin proudly pinned to his shirt. “Ah, Eric, is it? I’m here to see Crowley, is he in?” Aziraphale said, a little flustered.

“Oh, Mr. Crowley’s just in the bathroom! Wait a sec, are you Mr. Aziraphale, from the other week?” Eric’s face lit up.  
“Please, just call me Aziraphale” he smiled, awkwardly.  
“Ayyyy it’s Crawley’s angel!” came a croaky voice from the other side of the room. Aziraphale flushed scarlet and turned to see a scruffy blond man whose hair looked as if it had never seen a comb sitting at a messy looking desk that was covered in papers. He was also wearing a he/him pin, and for some reason fingerless black gloves. Taking up the wall behind his desk and the neighbouring desk was an enormous pride flag. “OI! Liggy you old bastard! Crawley’s angel is ‘ere!” Hastur called out with an unnerving grin aimed at Aziraphale. A dark-skinned man in a very nice suit, also sporting a he/him pin, strolled out from a door across the room. “Wossat?” Said the other man, in a thick London drawl. He dropped a mug of coffee onto Hastur’s desk, then spotted Aziraphale and made his way over, sticking out a hand. “Ligur, nice t’meet you. That old windbag there is my partner Hastur” he said, shaking Aziraphale’s hand as he motioned over his shoulder to the scruffy blond man. “Watch it” growled Hastur, keeping a scowl on his face for all of 2 seconds before he and Ligur both burst out laughing at each other. “Lovely to meet you all, my name is Aziraphale” he said with a shy smile, a bit thrown off by the dynamic in the office already.  
“What can we do yer for?” asked Ligur, gulping down his own coffee as he sat down at the desk next to Hastur’s. His desk was much tidier, Aziraphale noted. “Oh, well, Crowley may have mentioned that you were all LGBTQ in this department, and he suggested I pop down for a visit,” he cleared his throat a little awkwardly, feeling three sets of eyes on him.

“Yeah? Me and Hastur here got married two days after they made it legal here in the UK. ‘Course we already had a civil partnership before that, but we weren’t gonna miss the chance to get married properly. It was a bit of a rushed thing, ‘cos we didn’t know if they were gonna change their minds again. I remember saying I wish the officiant had been more efficient” Ligur laughed at his own joke, looking over at Hastur fondly, and reaching out to place a hand over one of Hastur’s paler ones. “Alright, yer soppy git, gerroff!” Hastur grumbled, the blush on his pale face at odds with his words as he waved off Ligur’s hand. Aziraphale smiled at the exchange, already warming up to the odd couple. “It’s wonderful to meet others who are out here, until Anathema mentioned that she and her partner were both pansexual I had worried that I was the only one!” he said sincerely. “That the witchy American from Marketing?” Hastur asked, pulling out a black vaping device. Aziraphale nodded.  
“Quite, and you see I was hoping to set up an LGBTQ network here within the company for queer members of staff, but my boss Gabriel seems to be under the impression that we don’t exist…” Aziraphale trailed off.  
“Wot a wanker!” Hastur exclaimed, and Eric giggled from across the room. “Count us in, anything to stick one to that uppity twat” he said, pulling on his vape before releasing a cloud of tobacco scented smoke into the air.

“What’s Gabriel done now?” asked Crowley as he sauntered into the office. “Oh, hi angel,” he said as he noticed the blond man, his face flushing pink. “You know you might as well just smoke actual cigarettes if you’re just gonna vape tobacco flavour, Hastur?” he said, turning to Hastur and grimacing. “Fuck off Crawley, you know they banned it in ‘ere. ‘Sides, I like the taste of baccy.” Hastur replied, blowing a bigger cloud of smoke towards Crowley, out of spite. Crowley waved it away with a grimace. “ _Crowley”_ Aziraphale breathed, feeling a blush creeping up his face. “I was just telling your colleagues about my idea for the network, and that Gabriel seems to be under the impression that we don’t exist within the company,” he continued, shaking his head a little as if to clear the rather inappropriate thoughts he was currently having about Crowley out of his head. It was hardly his fault that the man was wearing such _sinfully_ tight leather trousers in the workplace. His shirt, dark green today, clung to every plane of him and contrasted wonderfully with his hair which he was wearing in a loose, messy bun at the nape of his neck. As usual he wasn’t wearing a tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt were open to reveal a sliver of pale throat and his Adams’ apple. Aziraphale gulped. This man was surely out to try his patience in every possible way.

“That bastard misgendered Beelze again yesterday in a company meeting, and deadnamed Eric on the phone last week. We gotta do something about that prick, I’m telling you!” Crowley growled as he made his way over to the desk covered in greenery that Aziraphale had noticed earlier. He pulled a plush looking leather armchair that was nestled between two filing cabinets over to the desk with a grunt and motioned for Aziraphale to sit. “Oh thank you, dear boy. And how positively awful, I had no idea he was treating other members of staff like that too!” he exclaimed, holding his free hand over his heart. “Yeah, that’s why we put the flags up, and we’re all wearing these pins in solidarity” Crowley waved a hand at his own chest, where Aziraphale finally noticed the pin that said “He/They”. “Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry, I had no idea you used other pronouns, and I didn’t even think to ask, do forgive me!” Aziraphale said, his voice wobbling at the thought of accidentally misgendering someone.  
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, angel. I present as male most of the time, but I never felt particularly attached to the idea of being a man, y’know? Then I found out about gender fluidity and being non-binary through Beelze and eventually realised that felt right for me. It’s nice, sometimes when we do the weekly pub quiz down the road I get my dresses and makeup out.” He paused, as if he was gauging Aziraphale’s reaction. “That a problem?” he asked, sounding both defiant and apprehensive. “Of course not, my dear! I confess to not knowing as much as I would like about the topic, but I am always ready to listen and learn!” Aziraphale replied, giving Crowley a reassuring smile. He watched as all the tense lines in Crowley’s body relaxed a little. “What’ve you got there, angel?” Crowley asked, finally spying the black angel wing mug and jar of coffee in Aziraphale’s other hand.  
“Oh! I brought you some of that coffee, from when you fixed my computer, seeing as you liked it so much…” he said, flushing red.

“Coffee? Great, I’ll ‘av some!” Hastur called out.  
“And me!” Ligur chimed in.  
“Oh, oh well I suppose I can make everyone a cup, if you could be so kind as to show me where the kettle is?” He looked pleadingly at Crowley, taking it in his stride. The fancy coffee had been intended for Crowley only, but he couldn’t very well refuse now, could he? “Sure angel, follow me” Crowley grinned, picking up on Aziraphale’s dilemma. As Aziraphale got up he turned to Eric, “Eric, would you like a cup?” he asked. Eric’s eyes went wide. “You- you want to make _me_ a coffee?” he asked, confused. “I usually make the coffee, I’m the intern…”  
“C’mon angel, I think you broke his brain. He takes a dash of milk and 2 sugars. Kitchen’s this way” Crowley said, gently taking Aziraphale’s arm and leading him away.


	8. Into The Bowels of Hell pt.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is both protective af and a flirty bastard. Crowley is a disaster man. We love two whole idiots who share one whole braincell! Sorry for the wait- I've had issues with my living situation and it triggered a bit of a mental health crisis, so I've been viewing flats and feeling very stressed.

Crowley flicked the switch on the already full coffee pot and leaned back against the counter in what he hoped was a casual and unaffected way. “Good of you to use your fancy coffee for everyone, angel” Crowley said with an easy smirk and a raised eyebrow, as he watched Aziraphale spoon the expensive looking coffee grounds into the top of the rarely used machine.“Well…yes I…I suppose, but it’s really no trouble at all!” Aziraphale stuttered, flustered. Crowley watched as the other mans’ cheeks blushed a soft shade of pink. He felt his own grin widen in response as his crush reddened when he realised Crowley was playing with him. “Oh, you…you fiend!” he exclaimed, looking very affronted, a hand to his chest.  
“That’s me. Proper diabolical,” Crowley winked, hoping that he looked suave, instead of ridiculous. It worked, if Aziraphale’s face morphing from affront into something a bit fonder, long lashes fluttering, was anything to go by. “Oh hush, where do you keep the sugar?” Aziraphale huffed, and as Crowley reached up and over to a cupboard next to his head he heard him gulp. His own heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he handed the sugar over, their fingertips brushing. He leant back against the counter again, stretching his long body out effortlessly. He knew he was stick-thin, but some people clearly found his long, lean body attractive, and he was desperately hoping Aziraphale was one of those people.

He felt Aziraphale’s eyes rake him up and down, his gaze a little heated as he nibbled nervously on his plush bottom lip. Crowley swallowed hard, wondering if the other man’s stare meant what he hoped. He tugged his collar a little and watched the other man’s eyes track the movement of his Adams’ apple and then his hand. The tension in the tiny kitchenette felt thick enough to cut with a knife, but Crowley wondered if it was all in his head. What if he was intentionally misreading things? Just because the other man was gay it didn’t necessarily mean he was interested in being anything more than friends, and if that was all he wanted then Crowley would be more than a bit disappointed, but he’d cope. As Aziraphale turned away from him to open the cupboard Crowley found himself admiring the shape of him from behind- today he had forgone his usual beige velvet waistcoat and was wearing a soft looking cashmere jumper the colour of a summer sky. It hugged him in all the right places and made him look so soft, so touchable, that Crowley wished he could move those few steps forward and press himself against the other man. He imagined wrapping his skinny arms around the gorgeous man in front of him, resting his chin amongst those cloud-like curls. Aziraphale’s tan trousers (Something that Crowley never would have thought he could find attractive) made his bottom look good enough to bite, and those thighs… well Crowley had always had a bit of a thing for thick thighs, truth be told, and Aziraphale’s certainly ticked all his boxes.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the other man’s voice. “So…why were your colleagues calling you Crawley just then, if you don’t mind me asking?” Aziraphale questioned as he rummaged in the cupboard for mugs. Crowley handed him a spoon and flicked on the kettle next to the coffee maker as he realised the other man had only set out enough mugs for him and his colleagues- _Shit he doesn’t like coffee, does he?_ He thought frantically. “Tea’s in that cupboard there, angel, but we only have Earl Grey teabags or Yorkshire teabags- most of us are coffee drinkers down here. Here, you can use my Queen mug” he said, avoiding the question by pulling the two boxes of tea and his own favourite mug out of the cupboard and setting them in front of the other man. “Oh, thank you so much, dear boy. I’m afraid I’ve never quite gotten used to the bitterness of coffee. I fear if I choose Earl Grey your colleagues will think me a frightful snob, so I suppose I’d better go with Yorkshire, hadn’t I?” Aziraphale mused, popping his teabag into the mug, along with two heaped spoonsful of sugar. “Nah they won’t, n’ sod ‘em if they did! You’re just fine the way you are” Crowley mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he realised that had probably been far too sincere for his image, and far too soon to say. Aziraphale flushed again, although his back was to Crowley so he could only see the other mans’ ears redden. “So, you didn’t answer my question” Aziraphale finally said as he turned to pick up the kettle, “Crawley?” with a raised eyebrow in Crowley’s direction.  
“Nnn’yeah, I got really drunk once at a karaoke night and couldn’t feel m’legs. I fell down, and instead of helping me up they all laughed at me! I had to crawl back up into my seat- someone shouted out “look Crawly Crowley!” N’ that was that, I guess” Crowley replied, his own face flushing, as he turned to snatch up the coffee pot and pour coffee into the four mugs.

When he finally finished spooning sugar into the mugs and pouring milk Crowley glanced up to see a frown on Aziraphale’s face. He decided in that moment that he never wanted to see this angelic man frown ever again. “What’s up, angel?” he asked, brow furrowing.  
“Oh, well I suppose it’s nothing really…only, I thought you got along with your colleagues? Are they unpleasant to you?” Aziraphale replied, looking concerned.  
“Nahhh, it’s all banter, we tease each other but we’re all thick as thieves down here- we take the piss outta each other, but if anyone else tried to mess with one of us we’d all have their back, no questions asked. I was actually best man at Hastur and Ligur’s wedding, if you can believe that!” Crowley smiled warmly at the memory and at the thought that Aziraphale had been genuinely worried about his colleagues being mean to him. Aziraphale deflated a little, his concerned frown melting into a relieved little smile that highlighted the dimples in his cheeks. How was it possible that this man was real? Crowley found himself thinking. “Us demons gotta stick together” Crowley grinned.  
“Really now, my dear. You aren’t demons at all, in fact bar Tracey and Anathema I believe you might just be the nicest people in the whole company!” Aziraphale admonished.  
“Shhh, don’t go shoutin’ about it angel, we don’t want the whole world knowing- they’ll be calling us up every time a printer so much as jams” Crowley laughed. Aziraphale laughed too and his whole face lit up. Crowley felt himself melt on the inside from the warmth of that laugh, and he knew that he’d never get enough of that feeling.

Together they carried out the mugs, Crowley setting Hastur and Ligur’s down at their desks with a sarcastic little bow before taking a hearty swig from the black winged mug Aziraphale had brought down. Aziraphale, meanwhile, set Eric’s coffee gently down at his desk with a warm smile that Eric returned. “Thanks, Mr.Fell!” Eric chirped, warming his hands around the mug before taking a sip.  
“Now, now dear boy, I insist on you calling me Aziraphale, none of this “Mr.Fell” nonsense!” Aziraphale tutted as he turned to delicately scoop his teabag out, pressing it against the side of the mug before bending to place the teabag in the bin next to Eric’s desk. “Yessir!” Eric said with a little salute and a big grin. Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses at the display, who binned their teabags like that?? “Ta for the coffee mate!” Ligur said, after a particularly loud slurp from his mug. “Mmm, you weren’t kidding, this is the good shit! We usually just buy instant coffee cos we get through it so fast down here” he continued.  
“Yeah, I think the last time we used that old machine was when Crawley came back from Italy with some fancy Italian crap” Hastur interrupted. Ligur nodded and sighed happily as he drank more. Aziraphale looked up from his tea at this, now seated in front of Crowley’s desk once again. “Italy?” he asked, looking over to Crowley, who was now sprawled out in his frankly massive leather chair. “Mmyeah, went a few years back. M’really into art and history, been gradually ticking places off my travel list over the years. Can’t afford to do it often, but yeah” he replied, waving a hand.  
“Oh how splendid, I really have been meaning to go. The last time I travelled was to Paris, and I’m afraid I got in rather a pickle with the authorities over some crepes! All a misunderstanding, of course. But it rather put me off travelling alone” Aziraphale mused, sipping delicately from his mug. Crowley gaped.“You? In trouble? What did you do??”  
“oh, that’s a story for another time, dear boy” Aziraphale winked cheekily, causing Crowley to choke on his coffee, sputtering and flushing bright red. Did this man have any idea what he was doing to him??? “You got arrested, then?” Hastur croaked from the other side of the room, his interest caught. “Didn’t have you down as the type, thought you looked like a right goody-two-shoes” he continued. “Well, yes, quite. Normally I prefer to stay on the side of the law, of course, but where good food is concerned…well. That’s rather another matter” Aziraphale chuckled, patting his stomach fondly. “Y’can’t just drop something juicy like that and not tell us the story, angel! S’rude, is what it is!” Crowley complained, frowning and crossing his arms petulantly.  
“Well…I suppose I _could_ tell you the whole story over lunch sometime” he said softly, his grey-blue eyes twinkling. Crowley gaped. Had the angel just asked him out???? Before he could recompose himself enough to answer Aziraphale spoke again, but louder.

“Crowley, what is that red door there? I’m afraid I don’t have my glasses with me- I can’t quite read the plaque” he inquired, looking over at Crowley, whose face had returned to its normal state as he’d finally gotten himself under control. “S’ Beelze’s office, angel. We don’t go in there, they come out to us if they need us,” he swigged his coffee again.  
“Oh, should I have made an appointment to come down and speak with them? I’m terribly sorry for just barging in like this-”  
“Nah, you’re fine, we can start hashing out the details between us, we’ll let Beelze know the next time they come out” Crowley cut in, waving off Aziraphale’s worried look with a lazy hand gesture. It seemed that Aziraphale wouldn’t have to wait to meet the infamous Beelze though, as the door creaked open.


End file.
